


Inner Sanctum

by MykEsprit



Series: Sanctum Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Prequel, dramione - Freeform, post-OotP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit
Summary: Draco Malfoy thought he had to choose between family, duty, love, and camaraderie – until he found all four embodied in one, unexpected person.  Dramione.  Post-OotP. Prequel to “Sanctuary.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all its lovely characters are not mine. 
> 
> A/N: This is a prequel to “Sanctuary.” You may want to read that one-shot first…or not, if you want to be surprised! I will also be writing a sequel to that one-shot, but I thought the story of how they got to the events in “Sanctuary” is also worth telling, so I’m doing this one first. Cheers!

**Prologue**

 

“You must help him, Severus.”

He sat motionless on the armchair, his dark eyes fixed on hers.  The glass of Firewhiskey stayed clutched in his hand, reflecting the light from the hearth that lit the cozy study.

“He’s just a boy,” she said.  “If I had the choice to leave this place and run away with him, I would take it.  But, I cannot leave Lucius, and Lucius will not leave the Dark Lord.  Still, I need to make sure Draco is safe.”

Severus continued to eye here, unblinking.  She could not read any stray emotion on his face; then again, she had long suspected that Severus only exhibited what he wanted the world to see and nothing more.

“I don’t know what you would have me do, Narcissa,” he said.  “I am unclear as to what you are requesting.”

She pushed away from the shadows among the bookshelves and stepped further into the light.  She gazed down on the only other occupant in the room.

“I need your help to keep Draco from being initiated into the Death Eaters,” she said.  “Bellatrix has told me the Dark Lord wants him to take the Mark in a fortnight.  You must help me make sure that doesn’t happen.”

He remained unmoving, aside from the angling of an eyebrow, in soundless challenge.  “You want me to keep a promising, young pledge from taking up our master’s cause?”

“You know, better than most, how dangerous it is to be a Death Eater,” she said.  “You must keep him from joining your ranks.  Help me protect him.  Do your duty as his godfather.”

“I am, first and foremost,” he said, in a tone that made the muscles of her shoulders tense in fear, “a loyal follower of our Dark Lord.”

Only a lifetime of high society breeding kept Narcissa from falling to her knees in supplication.  Instead, she bowed her head and brought her gaze down to the patch of worn carpet under his feet.

“Please, Severus,” she whispered.  “Bellatrix tells me the Dark Lord plans to use Draco as a tool to get to Dumbledore.  That he will be assigned to assassinate the Headmaster.”

She didn’t hear any response or reaction, so she continued.  “You know what’s likely to happen.  Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, and Draco has little hope to accomplish this task.  Either he will be sent to Azkaban for attempted murder – or the Dark Lord will kill him for his failure.”

Narcissa slowly raised her eyes to meet his cold gaze.

“Help him,” she pleaded.  “Help my son.  Your godson.  Keep him from falling into the Dark Lord’s grasp, or within a year, he’s guaranteed to be Kissed or killed.”

She felt hot tears slide down her cheeks, but her view of his calculating scrutiny remained clear.  The fingers that gripped the tumbler became stark white, noticeable even in the soft glow of the fire. 

“The only way that you can hope to keep Draco from being initiated as a Death Eater,” he said, after a long pause, “is to hide him from the Dark Lord.  He will be safe once he is at Hogwarts.  In the meantime, he will need to be brought to a secure location, away from the Dark Lord’s influence.  Are you willing to part with your son, Narcissa?  No matter where he may be placed for his protection?  No matter how long it may be?”

She let hope surface on her expression.

“Yes,” she said.

“And how will you explain Draco’s disappearance to the Dark Lord?”

“Let me handle what to say to him,” she said, nudging her chin higher.  She will not let Severus try to talk them both off this path.

The corners of Severus’ mouth sloped lower.  “And if he takes his anger out on you, Narcissa?  Are you willing to risk his wrath?”

She said, “As long as my son is safe, I can handle whatever the Dark Lord does to me.”

A single, sharp nod was his only reply, as he brought the glass to his lips and drained the amber liquid in a single gulp.

ooOOoo

She found Lord Voldemort standing with his back to the room, gazing out of the crystal pane that overlooked her rose garden.  Her footsteps were loud against the marble, and they echoed in the otherwise-empty ballroom, where the Dark Lord had taken to holding court.

Narcissa stopped at a respectful distance and remained silent, waiting to be acknowledged.  After a few frantic beats of her heart, her master addressed her with the customary chill in his voice.

“Is it done?” he asked, without turning around.

“Yes, my lord,” she said.

“And, has he agreed to help your son?”

“Yes, my lord,” she repeated.  “He has contacted Dumbledore, and I am to bring Draco to Spinner’s End by morning.  From there, they will take him to a safeguarded location.”

“He suspects nothing?”

“No, my lord,” she said.

A few more moments of silence were followed by Lord Voldemort’s dismissive flick of a wrist.  Narcissa backed away quickly, not turning until she reached the cold metal of the side door’s handle. 

She yanked the door open and made a quick exit to the hall.

Scampering up the grand staircase, she made her way to the suite of rooms her son occupied.  She needed to get him ready.  

He was due at the Burrow at first light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading! This story is inspired by a few components of the legend of King Arthur…kudos to those who catch the references!
> 
> Chapter 1 will be up soon!
> 
> Comments/Kudos are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all its lovely characters are not mine.

The Headmaster kept a steady, wrinkled hand on Draco’s shoulder, and Hermione couldn’t decide if it’s there for reassurance or as a deterrent to keep him from running away.

Draco’s gaze traveled around the living room, from the large gingham couch near the front door to the stone fireplace through which he and Dumbledore had arrived.  He peered through to the dining area, with the long wooden table; to the oft-used kitchen, with the copper pots and pans hanging above the stove; and out the window, to where the garden gnomes were already creating mischief.

His nose crinkled slightly, as if his nostrils caught an unpleasant smell.

She hunkered down when he shifted his eyes to the staircase, where she hid behind the thick banister. 

Hermione had been lying on her cot in Ginny’s bedroom, half-awake, when she heard the early-morning disturbance in the living room.  Hoping to find Harry, she was surprised to find that the Headmaster delivered the blond boy instead.

“Thank you for opening your home once again,” Professor Dumbledore said.  “You’ve been most generous.”

Mister and Mrs. Weasley stood in front of them, clad in identical, powder blue dressing gowns.

“Our home is open to everyone,” said Mrs. Weasley.  “Especially children who need protection from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

Mr. Weasley nodded.  “We’ll take care of him, Albus.  Don’t worry.”

The Headmaster smiled at them, before guiding Draco to face him.  He propped his other wizened hand on Draco’s shoulder and fixed him with a penetrating gaze.

Professor Dumbledore spoke in hushed tones, and Hermione leaned closer, straining her ears to catch his words. 

“—put up wards to keep this place hidden from Voldemort,” he said.  “You will be safe here.  Molly and Arthur will bring you to Platform 9 ¾ in a few weeks for the start of term.  In the meantime, I will say this, for the sake of clarity: do not leave this property under any circumstances.”

The Headmaster thumped his shoulders in a paternal way and nodded to the Weasleys in farewell.  He Disapparated without a sound.

The three figures gaped at each other for a long moment.

Mrs. Weasley took a small step toward him, her arms held out, nonthreatening, as if approaching a fawn in the woods.

“Come now, Draco,” she said.  “Let’s get you settled into one of the bedrooms upstairs.  I think Percy’s room should be good.  Nice and quiet, ever since Fred and George moved out.”

She hustled him to the winding staircase, and Hermione hurried down the steps to hide in the small hallway connecting the kitchen to Ginny’s bedroom.

“You must be tired from traveling so early in the morning,” she heard Mrs. Weasley say, as three sets of feet clattered up the wooden stairs.  “Why don’t you get some rest, while I start breakfast?  The other children are still asleep.  I’ll call you down –”

Their voices disappeared, as they made their way to Percy’s empty bedroom.

Hermione stepped into the kitchen, staring up at the shadowed second-floor landing.  Minutes later, she heard Percy’s door squeak closed, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley descended.

“Hermione, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes wide when she noticed Hermione standing in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Hermione said.  “Erm, Mrs. Weasley?” She waved an arm in the direction of the stairs, unsure of how to voice her question without being rude.

The couple shared an indecipherable look between them.

“Draco will be staying on at the Burrow for the rest of the summer,” said Mr. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley interjected, “I hope you’ll make him feel welcome, dear.  I know that this will probably be hard on Ron, so it would be of great help to me if you got along.”

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.  “Draco Malfoy hasn’t exactly made it easy for any of us to be kind to him.”

“Hermione,” Mr. Weasley said.  “I understand you’ve had altercations in the past.  But, Dumbledore asked us to look after Draco for a reason – whatever reason that may be isn’t important.  That he is a guest in our home – that makes it our duty to make sure that he is well-taken care of.  And, your hospitality will go a long way to helping us do that.”

She felt a warm flush on her neck as she regarded the Weasley patriarch, feeling embarrassed at the mild reproach of her narrow-mindedness.  She nodded and gave him a sheepish smile.

She made her way back to Ginny’s room, where her friend was still in deep slumber.  She lied back on the cot, worrying how the new guest will act out at the Burrow.

ooOOoo

As the day wore on, Hermione questioned if her expectations may have been too melodramatic.  Throughout breakfast and lunch, Draco stayed sequestered in his assigned room.  While a part of her was relieved that he wasn’t around to make trouble, another side of her was worried that he hadn’t eaten since he got to the Burrow.

“Maybe he’s getting his food delivered to the room by a House Elf,” Ron said, as they wandered around the garden.  A sneaky gnome ran across their path, tripping Ron’s feet with a gleeful squeal before hiding in the pumpkin patch.

Hermione grabbed onto Ron before he toppled over.  “You think Draco Malfoy’s ordering take away in Percy’s room?” she asked.

They tiptoed to a large pumpkin, where they saw the gnome conceal itself.  They jumped over to take it by surprise but found only empty space.

“Ow!” yelled Ron, and he hopped on one foot, while cradling the heel of the other, as they heard an impish laugh and a scampering of tiny feet behind them.  “Bloody gnome!”

She looked around, not seeing any signs of the mischievous pest.  She felt a prickle in the back of her neck, as if someone was eyeing her, and it made her look in the direction of the house.  A figure stood framed in the small, second-story window of the shadowy bedroom that once belonged to Percy.

Hermione turned to face the bystander.  She crossed her arms and stared up at him in challenge.

The silhouette stayed fixed, where it observed them.

ooOOoo

Hermione stood in the darkened hallway in front of Draco’s door.  No sound could be heard from the other side.  She worried for a moment if he had passed out from dehydration or low blood sugar.

She rapped her knuckles once on the door, and it immediately flew open.  The tall boy stared at her without greeting, but she couldn’t make out his expression in the near-darkness.

“Dinner,” she said in a clipped tone.  She turned around and stomped down the stairs without waiting for a response.  By the time she reached the final step, a slow shuffling could be heard behind her.

Mr. Weasley sat at one end of the table, with Ron and Ginny settled along one side.  Hermione took the empty chair next to Ron.

Arranged across from them were two empty place settings.  Draco walked around the table and sat at the one farther from Mr. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley bustled to the table with a tray of roast and vegetables.  A small, relieved smile grew on her face when she saw Draco sitting with them.

“Good!  I was worried that you had been skipping your meals,” she said, as she put the tray down in the center of the table.  She took Draco’s chin in her hand and held his face up to the light for a better look, fretting over him as if he was another issue in her brood.  “It’s simply not healthy to be missing meals like that.  I know that you must be feeling down after – well – being away from home but locking yourself up in your room and starving yourself is not the answer.”

“As fun as that would be to watch,” Ron muttered under his breath.

“Ronald!” screeched Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to have developed supernatural hearing after raising seven children.  She propped her hands on her hips and glared at her youngest son.  “Draco is a guest in this house, and you will treat him as such.  Or, _you’ll_ be the one skipping dinner tonight.”

Ron flushed a brilliant red under her withering gaze.  When Mrs. Weasley busied herself with setting out dinner, Ron turned to glower at their guest.

Draco met his look with a haughty smirk.

Hermione kicked Ron on the shin under the table, and Ron hissed.

“What was that for?!” Ron whispered in her ear.

“Listen to your mother,” she said.

Ron huffed and turned his attention to the hot meal.

She focused on her own plate, but she felt Draco’s eyes on her once again.  She slid her gaze across the table and found him glaring at her, his eyes dark with contempt.

ooOOoo

Draco made his presence known at the Burrow infrequently.  Like her, he was an early riser; or, perhaps, he made it a point to be up and finished with breakfast before Ron could stir from his room.

In the mornings following his arrival, he sat at the table while Mrs. Weasley prepared their meal.  Hermione always seated herself across from him.  He would sometimes nod or shake his head whenever Mrs. Weasley would ask him a question, but he never acknowledged Hermione.

After breakfast, he disappeared into his bedroom, and no one heard him speak or move about for the rest of the day, despite the Burrow’s thin walls and creaky floors.  Sometimes, Hermione forgot that he was in the house, until she walked out into the garden and saw him glaring from above.

The only times that he graced them all with his presence was during dinner.  While Draco remained quiet, Ron kept his comments to himself, though Hermione still did her part by threatening him with another swift kick in the shin whenever she saw him glare at their guest.

A fortnight after Draco’s arrival, the household was surprised with another addition.  During a dinner of hearty Shepherd’s pie, Hermione heard an almost-imperceptible whoosh, and then a splash.  It was followed by the sound of clomping up to the front door.

The six heads around the dining table turned to the front door, waiting for the source to make itself known.  Everyone stayed seated, and no one drew a wand; they had far too much trust in the strength of Dumbledore’s wards to suspect a malicious intruder.

Moments later, a bespectacled boy with messy hair and mud-splattered jeans ambled into the house.

“Harry!” Ginny cried.  She jumped from her wooden chair and threw her arms around his neck.

She was quickly pulled away by Mrs. Weasley, who stepped into the space vacated by her daughter, so she could wrap him up in a maternal hug. 

Hermione took a turn next.  She embraced him, and he enveloped her waist.

“Why didn’t you write to let us know you were coming tonight?” she whispered in his ear.

“Didn’t know I was going to be here,” he said.  “How long have you been staying?”

“A while, now,” she said.  “Listen, there’s someone —”

A gravely cough interrupted her.  Ron nudged his head sideways, and Hermione stepped back from Harry.  She narrowly avoided being barreled over, as Ron hugged his best friend with enthusiasm.  He was followed by Mr. Weasley, who gave him an eager pat between the shoulders.

Draco remained seated at the table, witnessing the hubbub, disdain evident in the curve of his mouth.  He set his fork on his plate and leaned on the high-back chair, his arms folded on his chest and his legs crossed at the knees.

Hermione anticipated Harry’s response to Draco’s presence.  She didn’t have to wait long.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Harry asked, pointing a finger in Draco’s direction.

Mrs. Weasley explained the situation to him in a few brief sentences.

Mistrust was written clearly on Harry’s face.  “And Dumbledore just asked you to take him in?  His father’s a Death Eater!”

“That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t offer our help, Harry,” said Mr. Weasley.  He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gestured to the living room. 

The two of them spoke in low volumes, but if Harry’s deep flush was any indication, Mr. Weasley was giving him a similar admonishment that he had given her when Draco arrived.

Draco kept his eyes on Harry, his dark eyes gauging the scene before him.  A triumphant smirk grew on his face.

ooOOoo

“I can’t believe he’s here,” said Harry.

Hermione put her index finger on her lips and shushed him.  She sat with him and Ron on the dusty floor of the twins’ old bedroom, which Mrs. Weasley said Harry could use during his stay.  It shared a flimsy wall with the room Draco was currently occupying.  Though they couldn’t hear any noises coming from the other side, Hermione assumed their voices carried across the wall.

“I don’t care if he hears me,” replied Harry, with a mulish attitude.  “Why the hell did Dumbledore bring him here?  After all his family has done?”

“Ginny hasn’t even talked to him, I think,” Ron said.  “I mean, it’s one thing running into him at Hogwarts, but a Malfoy here, in this house?  After what Lucius pulled with that fucking diary?  Dumbledore’s gotten senile, I’m telling you.”

Hermione opened her mouth to rebuke him but stopped short, finding herself agreeing to their assessments.

“It _is_ strange that he’s here,” she whispered.  “But, the _Headmaster_ brought him here for a reason.  He wouldn’t have done so if he posed a threat to your family, Ron.  We should trust his judgment on this.”

Ron grunted, his disagreement apparent, but he didn’t argue with her.

A small part of her wished he had, because she wasn’t fully convinced with what she said, either.

ooOOoo

Late afternoon the next day, she sat on the chaise on the front porch, reading ahead on her Transfiguration textbook.  Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were out running errands; Mr. Weasley was at work.  The boys had kept her company for a while, until they decided that flying their brooms would be a more entertaining diversion.

The front door slammed open, and she jumped in surprise.  She dropped her book on the cushion as she saw Draco hurry down the steps, dragging his trunk in his wake.

“Malfoy?” she called out.  He either ignored her or didn’t hear, as he sped down the path, making his way to the border of the ward.

Hermione got up and followed him on the dirt walkway.

“Malfoy, where are you going?” she yelled after him.  She started running to catch up to his long strides.  “What are you going to do?!”

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing, Granger?” he asked without slowing down or sparing her a glance.

“You’re not supposed to go outside the wards,” she said.  She finally caught up to him and grabbed his forearm.  “Dumbledore said –”

“Fuck Dumbledore!” he said, turning around and shaking her off his arm with the force of his momentum.  She lost her balance and fell on the pebbled path.  The back of her head bounced off the hard ground with a thud.

“Fuck Dumbledore,” Draco repeated as he glared down at her.  “Fuck the Weasleys.  Fuck this place.  And fuck you, _Mudb_ —”

A sudden whack echoed in the stillness of the yard, as Harry’s fist connected with the side of Draco’s mouth.  Hermione felt arms wrap around her shoulders to help her up.  Ron made sure she was stable on her feet before going to the two boys, who were now rolling around in the dust.

Hermione rubbed the spot of her skull that took the brunt of her fall, feeling dizzy and disoriented.  She could only watch as Ron pulled on Harry’s collar to get him off Draco.  Harry caged Draco’s torso between his knees, and he landed another punch on the boy’s bleeding lips.

Draco pressed the heel of his hand at the base of Harry’s neck, and he pushed him off, leveling him with a blow to the jaw as he got up from the ground.  He tackled Harry, also taking down Ron, who was still attached to his collar.

She staggered over and seized Draco’s shoulders, using her weight to pry him off her friends, but he shrugged her off.  She wrapped her arms around Draco’s chest and tried again.

“Stop!” she heard someone yell, but she was too busy to register the newcomer.

Hermione heard someone scream, and she was yanked backward.  She landed on her feet two yards away.  She tried to move, but her soles would not budge from the ground. 

The boys, who were also tossed several feet from where they had been tussling on the ground, also found themselves in a similar predicament.  They continued to snarl at each other, until the interloper stepped into the middle of their rough circle.

“When you’re quite done acting like children,” said Remus Lupin, “perhaps someone can explain to me what’s going on.”

ooOOoo

They sat around the dining table, a tragic tableau of dirt, bruises, and dark crusted blood.  Draco sat alone on one side, his lips swollen and busted.  Across from him, Harry and Ron each sported a developing bruise on the side of his face.

Hermione looked the least injured among the four, though the blow to the back of the head did concern her.  She resolved to ask Professor Lupin to look her over for intracranial injuries, once he was done yelling at all of them about their stupidity.

“I saw _him_ ,” Harry pointed a finger at Draco, “push Hermione to the ground.  Was I supposed to not do anything about it?”

“ _She_ ,” Draco aimed his own finger at her in accusation, “was the one hanging on to _me_.  Not my fault she’s too fucking clumsy to stay on her feet.”

“Go to hell, Malfoy,” said Ron.

“Believe me, Weasley,” he said.  “I would rather take up a permanent residence in the underworld than stay another fucking minute in this shack you call a house.”

“Then why don’t you just fucking leave?” Ron replied.

“I tried, but _she_ ,” another finger jabbed in her direction, “wouldn’t let me!”

“For Merlin’s sake,” said Professor Lupin.  He massaged his right temple, where a prominent vein had popped up.  “Why did you try to go, Draco?  As Albus explained to me, you’re not supposed to leave the Burrow until you go to Hogwarts.”

“I just have to go,” said Draco.  “I need to go home.”

“I’m afraid you can’t do that,” said Lupin.  “These plans were set in motion for your protection.  I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave the safety of these wards.”

Draco pounded a fist on the wooden table, and he toppled his chair over as he jumped up.  “You don’t understand!  I _have_ to go home!”

“Draco, I’m sorry, but – “

“Remus,” they heard from the living room.  A moment later, Nymphadora Tonks took the few steps into the dining area.  She was wearing her Auror uniform, and her normally animated face looked sober.

“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked Professor Lupin.  Her eyes, however, were fixed on Draco.

They went to the living room and whispered a quick exchange.  Then, they returned and approached Draco.

Professor Lupin placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “You need to sit down, son.”

Draco remained standing, his eyes never leaving Tonks’ face.  She opened her mouth, but Draco shook his head.

“No,” he said.  The muscles of his face convulsed, and his eyes developed a sheen.

Tonks swallowed audibly and tried again.  “A report came in at the Auror Department,” she said.  “Your mother – she was found just outside of Spinner’s End.”

Draco continued shaking his head, his lips pressed in a thin, white line.

“Draco, I’m so sorry,” Tonks said.  “But she’s gone.  Narcissa is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments/Kudos are very much appreciated!


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